Rebel Without A Cause
by GOYA1281
Summary: A rebellious young man with a troubled past comes to a new town, finding friends and enemies. Can he let go of his past and move on? Can a bitter young girl change him? Will a troubled young boy be the glue to bringing them together? Or are they doomed?


**A/N: I don't own Glee. I don't own Rebel Without a Cause.**

**I love James Dean and I love Mark Salling so I decided to mix my love of the two and came up with this. My use of Glee characters is original but everything else is coming from the classic movie Rebel Without a Cause. My all time favorite James Dean movie closely followed by Giant. I'm borrowing heavily from the movie but adding my own spin on it. I just want to repeat that I do not own any rights to Glee or Rebel. I'm just doing this because I love both equally and just wanted to have some fun with it. I'm receiving no monetary gain from this. **

**Ok now just to remind everyone this story is taking place in 1955. I'm going to try and stay as true to the era I can. I hope you enjoy this. **

Chapter 1

* * *

It's dark out...the silver tone of a bell is heard singling the midnight hour far off in the distant night. It's a lonely dark street but the lone man in his pressed gray suit is whistling away his worries as he reaches his car. He hugs tightly the delicately wrapped packages under his arm, careful not to ruin the festive paper. He's so lost in his happy thoughts of family and the upcoming holiday that he hardly notices the group of teenagers fast approaching him.

In a friendly cool way the largest of the group flashes a smirk at the nervous man. "That was a pretty...what you were whistling. Whistle some more." The leader of this group of teen delinquents says in a casual cool way trying to mask his true intentions. The man nervously swallows and glances at the motley crew and he knows. Knows what they are really up to. They want some kicks. These kids court danger and must constantly court it in order to achieve any sense of prestige or personal worth in their otherwise mundane lives.

The man whistles nervously hoping to appease the kids and be on his way. "You got a cigarette?" The big dark looming figure says still with that same smirk. The leader is a sado-masochistic boy of seventeen with parents that really don't give a damn. Karofsky acts out aggressively his idea of what a man should be in order to hide his sensitivities and needs. It's the only thing he really can control in a world of adults that just don't get it.

"Oh, I think so..." The man says with a slight smile as he reaches into his pocket. He finds the pack but nervously drops it to the ground. Karofsky waits patiently till he picks it up and offers him one. The anticipation of what is to come is a welcome high in his rather pathetic existence. The man offers him one and he takes it easily.

"You smoke it. Smoke it, Dad." Karofsky taunts and the rest of the kids join in with their teasing sing song voices. The man smiles uncertainly and places the cigarette in his mouth, best not to disturb this pack of hunting wolves. Karofsky is still smiling in his cooler than most way. "I'll light it for you, Dad." He mocks again and the wolves begin to cackle in delight. Karofsky ignites a wooden match and holds it near the man's face for a second, searching it. Then he lights the whole box under the man's nose.

The man shrieks and his carefully wrapped packages tumble to the ground and spill their contents into the lonely street. Karofsky slaps the man sharply and his cool friendly smile dissolves into a fierce scowl. The rest of the wolves descend and kick, punch and yell their frustrations out on this poor innocent man. When they have had their fill of reckless violence for the evening the sound of their scattering footsteps are all that is heard in the dark lonely night.

* * *

_**Later that evening...**_

__The moment of stillness is almost too awful to bare. All that's left of the night's prior malicious events is the scattered and tattered remains of the man's nicely wrapped packages. Noah Puckerman, a good looking seventeen year old kid stumbles down the street and the oddness of the strewn gifts stops him in his tracks. He's a little bit drunk so he doesn't hesitate to drop down onto the dirty pavement not caring that he will ruin his good suit. The hazel eyed boy can almost hear the harping tone of his mother and grandmother in the back of his foggy mind, reprimanding him about his careless ways.

A small mechanical monkey catches his eye and a childish feeling deep inside him finds the tiny trinket highly amusing. The slow smile spreads easily over his handsome face as he winds the small toy. Noah happily watches the monkey dance and bang his small cymbals eliciting a fit of childish giggles from the teen. A siren in the distance sounds but Noah in his inebriated state cares little for the encroaching fuzz. He just winds the the little monkey up again and lays down on the cool damp pavement and smiles dreamily at the simple innocent toy while the police cruiser stops not far from the drunken youth.

Noah drunkenly struggles to remove himself from the two officers that are currently dragging him into the police station. They hold tight to the defiant teen and drag him through the double doors and into the bustling precinct. The phone is ringing insistently while the officers drag the arrested around into the different glass walled interrogation rooms. Among the captives is a beautiful young girl, sixteen with long dark mahogany hair pulled high in a cascading pony tail and deep sorrowful brown eyes. She sits on a crowded bench with an expression of downcast bitterness as she dusts off imaginary dirt from her full skirted plum dress. Rachel Berry adjusts her black sweater and crosses her ankles. She opens her small compact and looks at her reflection in the tiny mirror hoping to find answers to her life's problems in the polished glass.

Across from her on another bench is a docile, undersized boy of fifteen by the name of Kurt "Plato" Hummel. His pristine dress shirt is a little mussed under his dark sweater vest and he shivers just a bit. Kurt swipes his perfectly coiffed bangs from his face as he watches Noah Puckerman with wide sad blue eyes. His housekeeper and only friend Mercedes Jones looks pityingly at her sweet boy. He's missing so much with his absentee parents but Mercedes can only fill so much of the lonely boys heart. He aches for acceptance in this small town but he knows someone like him in this place and in this time would only be ridiculed and hated for who he really his.

"Mixed up in that beating on Twelfth street?" The tired sergeant bites out with a pointed look at Noah Puckerman. Noah just rolls his stormy hazel eyes as his nice buzz dissolves and leaves him with a cold empty feeling.

"No. Plain drunkenness." The young cop says flatly as he drags Noah further into the large open space of the reception area.

"This says he was picked up there." Sergeant Tanaka says flipping through the pages of the arrest report for the young man. What a waste he thinks. A good looking kid like that should be able to do most anything he wanted. Kids these days just have no direction the bitter aging policeman thinks as he eyes Noah.

"They had him on the carpet for an hour at headquarters. He's clear. Plain drunkenness." The young cop by the name of Jesse St. James says again in the same flat tone. He spends way too much time dragging these kids in here left and right. The fire of wanting to change the world and bring justice to those in need has dulled and the lingering coldness of defeat fills the once naïve cop.

The older man sees the waning fire in the younger cops eyes and sighs. What's with this generation of young people, he thinks bitterly. His generation had to step up and fight a world war, but now these kids just float through life with a devil may care attitude like nothing truly matters anymore. "Young squirt...yeah you St. James. You want to lean him against something? Stand him over there." The sergeant growls lowly and shakes his head dismissively.

Officer Jesse St. James leads Noah to Rachel Berry's bench and stands him against the wall. He gives the drunk teen a once over and rolls his eyes at how pathetic this guy is. Noah is frisked and a look of prayer is on his upturned face. Jesse finds the toy monkey in his pocket and goes to take it but Noah snatches it back protectively. Jesse is not in the mood for games tonight so he lets the drunk kid keep it. He walks away shaking his head at Noah.

Another cop comes by and takes the prisoner that is sitting next to Rachel away, freeing up some space near the diminutive beauty. Noah flops down besides her and flashes a playful smirk her way. Noah's face falls as Rachel sends him a chilling look. He winds up the little monkey and lets him dance across the floor. Rachel is not amused. She scoots away from the offending boy and turns her nose up at his handsome face.

Kurt watches the exchange with interest and smiles slightly as the monkey wobbles back and forth on the shiny linoleum floor. Noah glances at the small teen and nods his head. At least someone is enjoying his small treasure. A handsome detective walks in and squats down in front of a trio of dirty abandoned Hispanic kids not to far from the three teens. He asks them in Spanish where their parents are and the oldest, a sweet four year old boy with ink black hair and chubby cheeks tells him that he doesn't know. Will, smiles nicely at the kids and tells them that all will be OK before singling the older woman from social services to come and whisk them away.

Will runs his hand through his soft brown curls and grabs a file from the reception desk. He looks at the file and then makes his way over to Rachel. "Rachel...we're ready for you now." He says and gestures for her to follow him to an empty glass walled interrogation room.

Rachel sighs dramatically and mumbles softly under breath. "He hates me."

"What?" Will, asks as the tiny brunette passes him by and into the open door. Noah watches them walk away, unable to look away from the beautiful girl.

"He hates me." Rachel says flippantly and gracefully takes a seat. Her cold demeanor almost makes Will shiver. He's baffled at how a girl as young as she can be so bitter.

"What makes you think he hates you, Rachel?" Will asks with genuine concern in his blue eyes.

"I don't think. I know. He looks at me like I'm the ugliest thing in the world. He doesn't like my friends...he...He doesn't like anything about me. He calls me...he calls me..." She sobs unable to continue her words. Rachel doesn't hide her tears, she just wipes at them with the small palms of her tiny hands.

"He makes you feel pretty unhappy, huh?" Will says softly and offers the sobbing brunette a tissue. Rachel grabs a tissue and glares at Will.

"He calls me a dirty tramp! My own father." Rachel cries out loudly. Her sobs coming more forcefully as her small frame shakes.

"Do you think your father means that?" Will asks his gentle blue eyes searching her pretty face for answers as he tries to comfort the young girl.

"Yes! I don't know! I mean maybe he doesn't mean it but he acts like he does. We're all together and we're going to celebrate Easter and catch a double bill. Big deal. So I put on my new dress and I came out and he..." Rachel says animatedly and Will cuts her off.

"That one?" He asks pointing to the low cut deep purple dress that was more suited for an older woman and not a young girl of fifteen.

"Yes...he started yelling for a handkerchief...screaming. He grabbed my face and he rubbed all my lipstick off...he rubbed till I thought I wouldn't have any lips left. And all the time yelling at me...that thing...the thing I told you he called me. Then I ran out of the house." Rachel finishes and takes a deep breath as if to calm the raging fire in her belly.

"Is that why you were wondering around at one o'clock in the morning by yourself?" Will asks the concern for the broken girl written all over his face.

"I was just taking a walk. I tried to call the kids but everybody was out and I couldn't find them. I hate my life. I just hate it." Rachel finishes bitterly.

"You weren't looking for company, were you?" Will asks hesitantly, hoping Rachel wouldn't sink that low for attention.

"No." She answers curtly and just stares through the glass wall coldly.

"Did you stop to talk to anyone, Rachel?" The brunette is silent making Will a little uneasy. "Do you enjoy that?" He asks wearily. How these kids get themselves into these situations he'll never know.

"No. I don't even know why I do it." She sighs forlornly and clutches her small pocketbook in her delicate hands.

"Do you think you can get back at your dad that way? I mean sometimes if we can't get close to somebody as we'd like, we have to try making them jealous...so they'll have to pay attention. Did you ever think of that?" Will says hoping to get through to the obviously hurt young girl.

"I'll never get close to anybody." Rachel states resolutely as she continues to stare absently through the glass wall, trying to avoid Will's kind eyes.

Will takes a deep breath and tries to understand her. "Some kids stomped a man on Twelfth street, Rachel." His tone is soft but firm.

Rachel squirms a little and brushes her bangs from her deep brown eyes. "You know where they picked me up! Twelfth street! I wasn't even near where it happened." She fires back. The fight coming out of her small frame.

"Would you like to go home if we can arrange it?" Will nods his head at the female officer standing outside the door. She gives no answer and he just wishes he could grab her by the shoulders and shake the sense into her. "Did you notify her parents." He asks the large female cop.

Officer Bieste shakes her head "She wouldn't give me their number."

"What's your number, Rachel? We'll see if your dad will come and get you." Rachel turns wide hopeful eyes to the handsome detective. "Unless you really don't want to go home." And Will is met with more silence. "Would you rather stay here?" He gestures around him to the depressing room they are enclosed in.

Rachel looks up and speaks very quietly. "Lexington 05549." Will dials quickly before Rachel can change her mind.

The wail of a siren breaks through the awkwardness surrounding the young teens. Rachel looks through the glass wall towards Noah and the two lock eyes for a fleeting moment. Rachel ducks her head and tries to ignore his piercing hazel gaze.

Noah sits with his head back, eyes closed. As the siren gets louder Noah opens his mouth and imitates it...a long forlorn wail. Kurt smiles, the amusement clear in his large blue eyes. Mercedes just glares at Noah and hopes the boy will stop soon because he is starting to give the sable skinned beauty a headache. Kurt gets up and boldly takes a seat next to Noah. Mercedes reluctantly follows her precious sweet boy.

Noah continues to wail and Kurt just smiles at the unusual boy. Officer Jesse St. James stomps towards Noah with an aggravated expression marring his handsome face. "Hey." Jesse bellows and Noah stops for a brief moment before wailing again, only to irritate the cop further."Hey, that's enough static out of you." The annoyance clear in Jesse's voice.

"Want me to imitate a stupid cop?" Noah says with mischievous smirk.

"Cut it out now. I'm warning you." Jesse huffs.

"Yes...ma'am." Noah says with a mock salute. Jesse stomps away taking deep calming breaths to keep himself from roughing up the drunk kid.

Mercedes leans over towards Kurt who is shivering violently. "You shivering Kurt? You cold?" Her soft brown eyes worriedly taking in Kurt's shaking form.

Noah notices them and watches them closely. "Want my jacket?" He says while shrugging off his slightly dirty suit coat. Kurt looks at him with those sad blue eyes and Noah's stomach clenches as he sees some of his own sadness reflected in the boys eyes. "You want my jacket? It's warm." He offers again and while Kurt wants to take it he shakes his head no.

Noah slowly puts his coat back on and leans his dark head against the wall and closes his eyes. If only this night would just pass he muses silently as Rachel watches him closely from the glass encased room.

"Your mother will be down in a few minutes, Rachel." Will says softly breaking Rachel from her scrutiny of the handsome stranger.

"What?" Rachel clears her throat and just stares blankly at Will, as if she didn't understand a word he just said.

"Your mother will be down in a few minutes." He repeats and hates the crestfallen look that passes over the tiny brunettes face.

"My mother?" Rachel hisses as Will signals to Officer Bieste and helps Rachel from her seat and gently leads her to the door. Will hands Rachel off to the female cop with a sad smile.

"She's been called for." He says softly.

"You said you'd call my father." Rachel sniffles like a small child.

"Goodbye Rachel. Take it easy." Will says with just a hint of bitter sweetness he can't seem to push down. Not this night, and maybe not any night after tonight.

**A/N: Please Review. Next up the night continues with Kurt and Noah talking to Will. **


End file.
